All Chapters of The Billionaire's Mischievous Wife: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Weeks passed in a blur of endless meetings, late-night revisions, and back-and-forth decisions for a wedding I never even dreamed of. My life revolved around two things: Onirique Cosmetics and pretending to be Kiersten—both equally exhausting in different ways.Kung tutuusin, hindi ko na nga alam kung saan nagsisimula ang araw ko at saan ito natatapos. Lunes pa lang pero feeling ko Biyernes na. My body and mind were on autopilot at this point. Hindi ko rin alam kung paano ko nagagawang hindi mabuko ni Cecile, or worse—ni Brent. Somehow, I was still surviving the daily deception. A miracle, if you ask me.Today was no different.“Good morning, Kiersten,” Cecile greeted me as soon as I entered the office. She handed me a hot cup of coffee, her expression unreadable but her tone still professional.“Morning,” I replied, mustering all the energy I had to sound composed. I took the coffee with shaky hands. My heels were already torturing my feet, and the lingering ache from yesterday’s pre

The reception was barely winding down when I returned to our hotel suite—heels in hand, face aching from hours of fake smiling—only to freeze in place.May luggage na nakaayos sa may door. My luggage. With a fresh luggage tag and a silk scarf tied to the handle like someone had actually taken time to decorate it.What the hell?“Cecile?” I called, stepping in with furrowed brows.She appeared from the bedroom like she was expecting me. Suot niya pa rin ‘yung emerald green gown from earlier, except she was barefoot and looked way too relaxed for someone in a wedding emergency.“Oh good, you’re here,” she chirped, zipping up another travel bag. “Tama lang ang timing mo. Papunta na ‘yung car—halika na, baka ma-late ka pa.”“Late saan?” I asked, voice rising slightly. “What’s going on?”“Paris,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Honeymoon niyo ni Brent.”I stared at her, blinking in disbelief. “I’m sorry, what now?”“Huwag kang mag-alala, everything’s ready.”“Wa

Nagising ako sa sikat ng araw na malambing na humahaplos sa pisngi ko. Dahan-dahan akong dumilat at ilang segundo pa bago ko na-realize kung nasaan ako. Hindi ito ang kama ko. Hindi rin ito ang usual scent ng lotion ko sa bedsheet. Mas... mahalimuyak. Mas mamahalin.Then it hit me.Paris.Nasa Paris nga pala kami.Para sa Honeymoon “kuno.”Napapikit ulit ako at napailing. Honeymoon. What a joke. Wala namang romance sa pagitan namin ni Brent. Well, unless you count the accidental towel scene kagabi na ayaw ko pa ring balikan pero paulit-ulit na sumasagi sa isip ko na parang may sariling playlist ang utak ko at 'yun lang ang track na alam nitong ulit-ulitin.Ugh. Bakit ba ganon?Bumangon na rin ako sa wakas. I stretched slowly, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. The bed beneath me was too soft—parang cloud na nilagyan ng cashmere. Everything smelled expensive, even the faint linen scent clinging to the sheets.Pagtingin ko sa paligid, halos wala pang kalat. The guest room was mi

The wind had grown colder by the time we returned to the penthouse. The whole day had been a whirlwind of scenic spots and staged affection—an illusion wrapped in designer coats and perfect lighting. But as the camera flashes died down and the Parisian night settled in, everything felt… quieter.I slipped out to the balcony alone, wrapped in a thick knit cardigan, seeking some air. Some peace. The soft hum of the city rose from below, blending with the distant sound of a violin playing somewhere across the street. Paris, in all its late-night glory, shimmered before me—warm streetlights glowing like constellations, the Eiffel Tower standing tall in the distance, its golden lights sparkling like it was winking at me from afar.The Seine flowed like a ribbon of silver beneath the bridges, and couples strolled arm-in-arm along its banks, unaware of the girl watching them from above—me, the not-so-happily married wife in a pretend marriage.I hugged the cardigan tighter around my frame an

THIRD PERSON“Sir Brent, the board is waiting at the conference room.”Brent barely looked up from the stack of documents he was reviewing. His pen paused mid-signature, jaw tightening at the reminder. He gave a curt nod without breaking his focus. “I’ll be there in five.”His executive assistant exhaled—almost imperceptibly relieved—before quietly backing out of the office, closing the door with a soft click.The moment the door shut, Brent leaned back into his leather chair. His eyes slid shut, the weight behind his lids heavier than any document he had reviewed since morning. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the dull throb in his temples.The past twenty-four hours had been a relentless blur—an exhausting flight back from Paris, no time to rest, and now this. A full-blown board meeting that felt more like a courtroom trial than a leadership update.They weren’t just sitting around a polished mahogany table to listen to his strategy. No. The board was dissecting his